


A FrUk Fairy Tale

by moustacheMythology



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, but also some, even though neither of those things are what they actually seem to be, knight and princess AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 11:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moustacheMythology/pseuds/moustacheMythology
Summary: In which Arthur locks himself up in a tower, calls a dragon a floozy, and gets rescued by the most annoying Frenchman he’s ever met in his entire life.





	A FrUk Fairy Tale

**Author's Note:**

> A word of warning, this fic was completely done for my own amusement in a five-hour writing marathon. This was written for the FrUk Week for the prompt "Princess + Knight", find me on tumblr @still-a-hetalian!
> 
> Have fun reading, if you like it leave kudos, and let me know what you thought in the comments! 
> 
> Some human names to know -   
> Alistair: Scotland  
> Caden: Wales  
> Patrick: N. Ireland  
> Seamus: Republic of Ireland

All in all it really wasn’t too bad of a deal. Arthur would’ve liked to have been allowed to get out a little bit more than once a week (he wasn’t supposed to leave his tower at all but he managed to strike up a deal with the dragon who guarded him to let him out once in a while – most people thought gold was their weak spot but really it was tiny swatches of embroidery, weird, Arthur acknowledged, but it _was_ incredibly more convenient than gold) but anymore was probably asking for too much and word would definitely get out that he could actually leave the tower if he was caught wandering.

It’s not like he would get in trouble or anything if he was caught, but it would completely ruin his plan – or more accurately his and his brothers’ plan. There were probably much better ways to avoid marriage than locking yourself in a tower with a dragon and telling everyone in the kingdom you were trapped but so far it was working out brilliantly. He didn’t have to attend to any of his princely duties, he got to read and embroider as much as his heart desired, and no one bothered him, with – of course – the exception of one of his brothers covertly stopping by every once in a while for tea.

The plan was going great, he only had to wait until the princess who was fervently trying to get his hand in marriage to lose interest and he would be free again. Though unfortunately, somewhere along the line though the tale of his predicament got muddled as it passed from person to person and turned into a tale about a princess trapped in a tower. Arthur could understand where the confusion came from, a similar story told to the brothers when they were younger was what inspired this ridiculous plan but it still brought on some unfortunate challenges. Making his voice a higher pitch when he called out to the “gallant” knights who came and tried to “rescue him” wasn’t that big of a deal, all he needed to do was wait until his dragon noticed them and burned them to a crisp, but still, Arthur couldn’t help but me miffed.

Unfortunately, as what happens to all great plans, they must come to an end, and this one was ended by one annoying French prick.

 Arthur had been going about his usual morning routine of sweeping the floors and enjoying the serenity of no one to interrupt his calm. He enjoyed listening to the birds chirping outside his window until he heard the galloping of horse hooves approaching the tower.

He wasn’t expecting any of his brothers for at least another two days so that could only mean it had to be a suitor. All Arthur could do was roll his eyes and hope that the dragon would return soon from her morning hunt for food.

“Allo! Young maiden, are you up there?” Arthur heard a voice say from down below. He sighed and dropped his broom to the floor.

_Might as well get this over and done with before he starts looking too hard at the tower_ , Arthur thought to himself. There was a hidden door at the bottom. As long as you knew where it was, it was fairly easy to access but most knights didn’t make it that long.

“Yes, of course, brave knight. I am up here withering away all by myself,” Arthur called out in falsetto, dramatically draping himself against the door frame of the balcony looking out across the land surrounding the tower. There was no way the knight would be able to see him from that ground at that angle but frankly, there was no harm in amusing himself so Arthur loved to ramp up his performances.

“Don’t worry I will rescue you soon, ma chere,” the knight called again.

_Wow, so original_ , Arthur thought to himself and wandered back inside hoping the dragon would return and end his suffering.

Arthur tried to return to his chores but he kept hearing the pounding of boots from the knight running around the castle. This was probably the longest any knight had lasted but Arthur tried not to get worried, the dragon would be back any moment… and at that he heard the tell-tale sound of gigantic wings flapping as she returned.

Arthur stopped what he was doing and waited to listen for the knight being burnt to a crisp but it never came. Dropping what he was doing again he ran to the balcony to see what was going on and was greeted with the sight of a suspiciously calm knight holding out a bag of scraps of fabric to the dragon.

_Oh no_ , they were just random scraps of fabric, but they were _embroidered_ useless scraps of fabric. Arthur cursed the dragon’s poor taste in needlework and the knight’s knowledge. Countless other knights had tried to entice it with gold only to meet fiery deaths but this one seemed wiser than that.

He watched as the dragon sat back on its haunches and carefully looked through the bag, delicately sorting the scraps with its claws and peering at each one carefully. It would probably give the knight _just_ enough time to find the door – except, the knight wasn’t there anymore.

_Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck –_ Arthur inwardly chanted to himself as he heard the pounding of boots up the tower staircase. He scrambled for something to block the door, but everything would be too large for him to budge.

_FUCK!_ Arthur continued his incredibly unhelpful inner monologue. He looked around and saw an old wooden chair. _Fine_ , he would have to resort to desperate measures. 

*****

Francis woke up with a splitting headache. All he could remember was running up some dark stairs, opening up a heavy wooden door, and _BAM_ – complete blackness.

He tried to lift his head but was met with shooting pain and so resorted to laying back down and turning his head to the sound of a voice coming from the balcony.

“Oh you _floozy_ , really? You see any old colorful scraps of fabric and you’ll betray me like that. How am I going to deal with this? There’s no way my brothers will get my message in time to help!” The blond man yammered on but his voice was making Francis’ headache worse, he had to give the man some credit though, it was pretty impressive to be able to ream out a dragon like that and live. He also had to give it to the dragon though, whatever it did wrong it looked pretty remorseful – if the giant lizards could even _look_ remorseful.

Oh no, he was losing it, he definitely had a concussion from whatever slammed him in the head.

All Francis could do was groan.

This seemed to catch of attention of the other man in the room and he stopped mid-sentence. The dragon saw his opportunity to escape and flew off as the angry man stalked over to Francis lying on the ground.

Francis pretended to still be knocked out as the man leaned over him.

“I know you’re awake, who are you?”

Francis sighed and opened his eyes; his headache was slowly receding. Upon opening them, the first thing he saw was the man holding a wooden chair leg, ready to swing again. The second thing he noticed was the hideous tunic the man was wearing.

“Really, I come to rescue you and you’re wearing _that_ , I may be able to save you from this tower but obviously I won’t be able to save you from your fashion sense,” Francis said.

The man lowered the leg in surprise and contempt.

“Excuse me?” The man sputtered out, his face going a little blotchy.

If you looked past the tragic fashion sense and monstrous eyebrows, Francis supposed he could consider…

“I’ll have you know! This is the height of fashion in my kingdom!” the man said. Francis tried to listen but all he could focus on were the black furry creatures pasted above the other man’s eyes…like dancing caterpillars – _merde_ , definitely a concussion.

“…now I demand that you leave me be at once or you will face the consequences!” the man concluded as Francis finally tuned back into the one-sided conversation.

Francis struggled to sit up and when he did, he said, “mon cher, before you continue talking I need to clarify something first.”

The man huffed but let him continue.

“Am I correct in assuming that you are the beautiful young maiden trapped in the highest tower, guarded by a dragon, to be punished by an evil witch for all of eternity?” Francis asked.

“Oh god, is that what people are saying nowadays, Alistair is going to have a field day with this…,” the man trailed off, throwing the chair leg to the side. “Really? Beautiful young maiden? Evil witch? This isn’t a bloody fairytale.”

“Well yes, that is what the story promised. Instead it seems that all there is a grouchy young prince and an easily distracted dragon,” Francis said.

“Not that easily distracted, you are the first knight to figure out her fascination with embroidery,” the man told him.

“I’m honored,” Francis said, trying to get up. “Oh well, no matter. We must be going either way, I hope you have your things packed, my prince.”

As Francis got to his feet he looked down and gave the other man a winning smile, it would be easy to charm him, it always was. Unfortunately, though, he was met with an unimpressed face.

“I’m not leaving,” the man said. “Also, my name is Prince Arthur, please use that full title I have no desire to become familiar with you.”

 Francis tried to not be thrown off by his curt tone.

“Are you not trying to escape?” Francis tried again.

“Of course not, why the bloody hell would the staircase be unlocked if that were the case?” Arthur said testily. He had a point, it didn’t dawn on Francis until then that it was suspiciously easy to get up the tower.

“Well either way we must be on our way, I still need to collect my prize,” Francis said, brushing himself off.

“Are you really going to be this much of a pain our entire journey?” Arthur asked in monotone.

“Are you really going to be so rude the entire time?” Francis sniped back, his patience finally being tested.

“Rude! I’m a prince! You can’t talk to me like that!”

“Well, this is no way to address your savoir!”

“You didn’t save me! I didn’t need to be saved!”

Francis caught himself before he continued this ridiculous argument. They were wasting daylight and they would need to leave immediately if they were to be at the king’s palace by the end of the week. He was running out of time…

“Are you coming with me or not?” Francis huffed.

Arthur seemed to consider his options before answering.

“I suppose I have to, word will get out about the truth if I don’t,” he sighed. “It has been a while since I’ve seen all of my brothers...”

“Well then. Grab some things and let’s set out.”

They gathered enough supplied for the two-day journey and set out on the horse that Francis rode there on.

*****

They of course, fought the entire time. They fought about their seating arrangements - Arthur resented sitting in front like some helpless maiden – they fought about when to stop, they fought about what sort of bird was making a call, they fought about directions, everything, every possible thing to fight about, they seemed to cover it.

Francis started to regret this immediately. Desperate measures though…

Hours passed and the sun started to dip down in the sky.

Finally, they agreed that they needed to stop to set up camp and eat dinner. Both completely worn from the events of the day, they decided to ignore one another instead.

They quietly worked around each other as Francis set up a tent and Arthur started a fire. He was fantastic at burning things he found after many previous cooking attempts so the job suited him well.

It was quiet but peaceful in the woods. His brothers had informed that this area of the woods was relatively safe to camp in at night but the next days journey might not so he savored this feeling.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Francis said, breaking the silence. “If you weren’t trapped, then why did you stay in the tower.”

Arthur sighed. It was only a matter of time before the Frenchman asked.

“Short answer: I was avoiding getting married,” Arthur said.

“And the long answer,” Francis asked.

“Listen I really don’t want to get into it but there was this nobleman’s daughter who decided to become infatuated with me once it got out that after my eldest brother became king I would need to be married in order to secure my future. Don’t get me wrong she is quite lovely and will probably make someone out there a wonderful wife. But. Just not mine,” Arthur trailed off.

“And why’s that?” Francis pressed when he figured he wouldn’t get the rest out of Arthur so easily.

“She has one major flaw.”

“And what’s that?”

“She’s a woman,” Arthur said flatly. “While I would not be the first man with no interest in women to marry one for the sake of show, I would prefer not to have a loveless marriage to someone who deserves much better than that.”

“And so you lock yourself in a tower?” Francis asked, perplexed.

“Listen, it was really my eldest brother’s idea,” Arthur started.

“The king?”

“Yes, well, the others helped as well. But it was mostly Alistair’s idea and I figured I might as well go along with it, but as you could tell from the stories, the idea got a little out of hand,” Arthur said.

Yes, Francis had heard enough interesting stories about the young king that locking his little brother in an abandoned tower guarded by a dragon might not actually be the most outlandish thing the man had ever done. There was one particular rumor Francis really liked that went something along the lines of within the first month of his rule he managed to convince a king whose the kingdom had been at odds with theirs for years that the reason it rained so much in his kingdom was due to a curse from an old witch that said that if any neighboring kingdom attacked them, the invaders’ lands would be flooded with all of the rainwater the ground had been collecting.

Personally Francis thought it was the most outlandish rumor he’d ever heard but after finding out the truth of Arthur in the tower, he was more inclined to believe the stories. Some people thought the new king was absolutely insane but Francis was starting to believe that he may just be smarter than people realized, and definitely more creative. Really, letting a harrowing – and very sympathetic – story spread about his poor “sister” trapped in a tower would definitely win some sympathy points with his new subjects… and get rid of any of the more idiotic noblemen in his realm… And perhaps distract people from any growing pains in taking over the kingdom…

Francis had been lost in thought for too long and missed the question Arthur asked him.

“Sorry?” Francis said.

“I asked what a knight would possible want with a princess?” Arthur said.

“Well the reward of course,” Francis replied. “And I’m not a knight.”

“You’re not?”

“No, I am a prince from across the channel,” Francis said, puffing up a little.

“Oh, so you _are_ French,” Arthur said unpleasantly. “Wait, what reward?”

Francis was about to answer when he heard a rustling in the bushes behind them. The two froze looking around but the fire made it difficult to see in the shadows. There were footsteps, he was sure of it.

“My brother had said that these parts were supposed to be safe –“ Arthur said.

“Well hello there!”

The two whipped their heads around to across the fire from where they were sitting to see a group of men standing there smiling.

Oh no.

Arthur noticed what they were holding in their hands.

They were travelling minstrels.

Arthur immediately wished they were being robbed. It would be impossible to shake these guys off once they latched on. He would rather be beaten and left for dead than have to sit through the same painful songs minstrels always sang with out of tune instruments and obnoxious joy.

“We noticed you two travelling through and figured we’d come and say hi. Would you mind if we played a little tune?” the one man, probably the leader asked. His smile looked demonic in the light of the fire but Arthur knew the man meant no harm… _probably_.

Arthur tried to silently communicate with Francis to turn down the offer but Francis seemed to have the same “deer-caught-in-carriage-lights” as he did.

“I don’t –“ Arthur started to say.

“YES we would love to hear your music!” Francis interrupted through clenched teeth.

The minstrels looked delighted and started whispering among themselves what to play first. Arthur was fairly certain he heard one of them whisper, “c’mon boys this is the first time one has agreed in _months_ we gotta make it good,” but Arthur was already trying to block them out.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Arthur leaned over and hissed at Francis.

“There have been many stories about slighted minstrels attacking unwilling audiences, we _cannot_ upset them,” Francis whispered back, keeping his eyes on the band of colorful musicians.

“Oh god, this is not how I want to die,” Arthur started to despair.

“ _Exactly_ , which is why we need to make them as happy as humanly possible. Smile and clap and we’ll get out of this alive, okay?” Francis said.

They did as Francis said. For two and a half hours. If Arthur wasn’t so tired and ready to snap, he would be almost impressed that they were able to play for so long.

Next to him he heard Francis let out a yawn and everything went to a complete stand still. The minstrels stopped their music immediately and Arthur and Francis froze.

_This is it. My brothers will never be able to find my body._ Arthur internally panicked.

“Oh my, excuse us, it’s so late you both look like you’ve spent all day travelling, you must be tired,” the leader said, breaking the silence. “We should get going anyway.”

“O-oh, yes. Lots of travelling and lots tomorrow so it’s probably for the best we head to bed soon. Thank you so much for this, uh, _incredible_ performance,” Francis said, sweating.

“Oh where are you traveling to?” the leader asked again as the others were starting to pack their instruments.

“My sister’s wedding,” Arthur said quickly.

“Oh where do she –“

“Far, very far, you wouldn’t know the town,” Francis interrupted the leader. He stood up and handed the men a pouch of coins as payment for the music, trying to get them on their way.

“Oh, well, that’s nice. It was very nice meeting you!” the musicians said as Francis tried to usher them away.

The musicians wandered off back into the night and the two men both deflated in relief.

“Figured it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to disclose our true identities,” Arthur said.

“Yes, that’s probably for the best. Let’s head to sleep, I think I may pass out if I stand any longer,” Francis said, heading for the tent.

Arthur smothered their camp fire enough that only glowing embers remained and followed the other man in.

Both were two tired to fight over sleeping positions, and if by the end of the night they had moved closer together, tangling legs and sharing warmth, no one had to know.

********

The next morning, they were quick to break down their camp. They would need to ride as fast as possible in order to make it to the castle in time so they wouldn’t have to suffer through another night outside.

The very thought of sitting through another concert in terror for their lives, was deeply unpleasant for the both of them.

Francis’ horse put up little fuss for the hard pace that they were setting, trying to get through the dense forest to get to the sprawling farmland which surrounded the kingdom’s capitol.

There was slightly less arguing throughout the day. The two still slung barbs at each other but they held more of a fond tone than anything truly biting. Arthur talked about his time in the tower and his brothers while Francis would talk about his home and his journey to Arthur’s kingdom. There was still that one question that Arthur was almost worried about asking: What was Francis after? He rode all this way to save a princess? Arthur thought that seemed ridiculous, there had to be more to it.

Arthur was about to ask again what the reward for his “rescue” which Francis mentioned last night when the city walls came into sight. He knew they shouldn’t waltz in the front entrance as someone would definitely recognize him and word would spread quickly. He didn’t know everything that had happened since he was gone nor what his brother might be planning so it was best that they met with him first before anything else.

“There’s another entrance that we can go to that links directly to the castle,” Arthur turned his head and told Francis. Francis nodded and listened as Arthur gave him directions.

They found an outcrop of rocks that when they moved certain ones, it uncovered a small hole that would drop into a tunnel. It was too small for the horse but large enough to walk through. Francis let his horse go, it was simply one he had bought when he landed on the shores of Arthur’s kingdom and figured someone else might make better use of it since he probably would not be able to return to it anytime soon.

They entered the tunnel and Arthur directed the way as best as he could remember. They were sure to be quiet as they went in case anyone was patrolling down here.

Finally, Arthur was sure he found one of the entrances in the castle which would make the least amount of fuss – hopefully - the kitchen.

Francis and Arthur worked together to lift up the heavy stone cover above them and Francis gave Arthur a boost through the hole, as he was the shorter of the two and needed help lifting himself up.

When he did though he was essentially popping out of the stone floor giving one of the kitchen maids one hell of a scare as she shrieked and flung the scones off of the plate she was holding onto the floor.

Arthur took one look at the sad pastries lying scattered on the floor and said, “Well isn’t that a bloody shame, they looked so good.”

“P-p-prince Arthur?” the young girl stammered.

“Yes. And if you don’t mind could you find something for me and my companion to eat – oh, and alert my brother I am back,” Arthur said, while helping Francis out of the hole in the kitchen floor.

The young girl seemed to have to take a minute to collect herself and then sprang into action, unfortunately still holding the platter as she rushed out the door in search of the king, or perhaps one of the other princes, which ever she ran into first.

“Mon dieu, what _are_ those things?” Francis said, looking at the ruined scones on the ground.

“Scones, or at least they were.”

“What they _are_ is an offense to the art of baking,” Francis said disgusted. Arthur didn’t even have it in him to argue back as she looked around the deserted part of the kitchen looking for something to eat.

Finding some cured meat, cheese, and bread, Arthur and Francis had their meal and planned their course of action. It would be best for Arthur to meet the king in private but that probably would not be easy – though keeping his return quiet might not even be an issue as the kitchen maid more than likely had already told at least a dozen other people in the castle already.

They had barely finished their meal when the young woman burst back in – still holding the scone tray. Arthur worried for her health.

“The king has arranged for you to meet in his chambers, we must be quick, there will be  visitors coming tonight,” the girl said, in between gasps of air as she tried to catch her breath.

Arthur brushed off his clothes and caught Francis’ eye. The other man just nodded and followed him as he followed the girl to the door.

They wandered throughout the castle, rushing past some bewildered servants as they made their way to the king’s rooms.

“Who is visiting tonight?” Arthur finally thought to ask as they neared their destination.

“Lady Pemberton and her father I do believe,” the young woman said. Arthur felt himself grow cold.

“What’s wrong Arthur?” Francis asked, noticing his expression.

“That’s the young woman I was telling you about. The reason why I was in the tower,” Arthur whispered back to him.

Francis wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Something in his chest tightened at the thought of Arthur being forced to marry this young woman as it seems the elaborate excuse not to was unravelling. It was sympathy for the man. Of course. Definitely sympathy, he repeated to himself, but he couldn’t lie to himself. Sure, the man was cranky and argumentative, and had terrible, terrible, _terrible_ fashion sense, but at the same time he was amusing in his own right and there was something about his interaction with Arthur that just felt _right_ somehow. There was still hope though… if the king was willing to uphold the reward…

They came to a large wooden door, and the servant knocked rapidly on it until the latch was undone and it swung open. A relatively tall man with hair the same color as Arthur’s appeared in the doorway waving them in.

Arthur and Francis entered the sitting room as the man re-latched the door.

“Good to see you again, Caden,” Arthur said to the man, laughing slightly. The man spun around and caught Arthur in a bear-hug.

Francis looked around and saw three more men sitting in the room. Two red-headed twins were quietly fighting about something or other on a couch at the far end of the room.  

_Those must be Princes Patrick and Seamus_ , Francis thought to himself.

Which meant that the last man sitting in a highbacked chair with fiery hair must be the king. Francis caught the man observing him and everything seemed to fall into place. Everything. The rumors, the plan, this was definitely the kind of man that would come up with such absurd ideas but still _somehow_ pull them off. He had the same green eyes as his four brothers but there was something in them that seemed to make the man look like he was constantly sizing you up but also laughing at you in the same beat.

The king seemed to find something in Francis that he liked as he finally broke the starring contest that the two were engaged in, and reached for the glass of wine sitting on the small table beside him.

Arthur came up behind him, huffing and trying to sort out his messed hair. Caden, Arthur, and France all took empty seats. Caden sitting in the other highbacked chair in the room beside the king, while Francis and Arthur shared the closest couch.

“Well, welcome back,” the king said to Arthur, smiling softly. “I suppose you have a fantastic excuse for showing up so suddenly.”

Arthur looked at Francis then delved into the bare facts of their encounter and journey to the castle, trying to be quick. As he told the story, three of Arthur’s brothers seemed to be absorbed, but Francis could still feel the king’s eyes on him. There was something about this entire situation which unnerved him.

After Arthur finished his tale, he looked at Alistair as if to ask “what now?”

Instead of addressing Arthur, the king looked at Francis and asked, “And I suppose you’ll be wanting that reward that the rumor circulating seems to promise?”

Arthur immediately looked at Francis, remembering the mention of a reward from the night before. Francis looked back at him slightly uncomfortable but resolute.

“Yes,” the Frenchman said.

“Francis what is he talking about?” Arthur said flatly. Arthur looked at his eldest brother but the man only snickered and nodded his head towards Francis.

Arthur looked at him and Francis just sighed.

“The reward, ma cher, for rescuing the ‘princess’ according to the rumors is her hand in marriage,” Francis said, not quite meeting Arthur’s eye.

“You’ve got to be fucking –“Arthur started to say.

“Alistair, you won’t let this happen, right? We put Arty in the tower just so he _wouldn’t_ have to marry,” Patrick spoke up from the other couch. The king said nothing but only shrugged and continued to drink his wine with a smile on his face.

_What the hell is he up to,_ thought Arthur.

“Well it would be rude for our knight here to have gone through all of this trouble under false pretenses,” the king said sarcastically. A little too lightly for Arthur’s taste, this _was_ his future at steak.

_God what a prick, he wasn’t the one that was being offered up as a prize_ , _\- wait,_ Arthur thought to himself. _How did he know about the prize? He may have heard a rumor here or there but…_

“You’re the one who started the rumors aren’t you?” Arthur looked Alistair dead in the eye, not even trying to hide how much he loathed his brother in that moment.

At that, the other man burst out laughing. His four brothers and Francis looked at the king bewildered.

_Maybe I was wrong, perhaps he is insane,_ Francis thought.

“WHAT!” Something in Arthur just seemed to snap. Either from the stress of the previous 48 hours, or perhaps the entire year that this charade had taken place. He got to his feet and it seemed to snap the tension in the air as the brothers immediately started to argue.

Francis only sat there though. It was a strange move but there had to be a reason for the king’s actions.

The king seemed to catch his eye and Francis understood.

“Well this was obviously the best possible solution though wasn’t it?” Francis said plainly. The arguing came to a quick stop when the men noticed that he had spoken.

“What are you – “Caden started to say.

“Let him talk,” Alistair interrupted. He leaned back in his chair amused.

Francis cleared his throat, suddenly a little uncomfortable as all five men – four of which he had never met and one he’d only know for 48 hours, a very eventful 48 hours but still – turned their attention to him.

“It was the best possible solution to your problem,” Francis started. “There was clearly no chance that Arthur would willingly marry any of the potential female suitors and this story created enough stir in the kingdom that it would attract attention. It became a trial of sorts for anyone wanting Arthur’s hand in marriage since they would obviously need to be clever and devoted enough to get past the dragon. But, this still allowed Arthur to have a chance at being happy since if it was a princess in need of rescue it was sure to attract many male knights wherein if they eventually did pass and found out that Arthur is a man then they could either chose to marry him or you could simply offer him so sort of financial compensation instead.”

When Francis finished his explanation, he looked at the king again, waiting for him to say something.

Instead the man just burst out laughing.

“Nah, mate, I did it just for a laugh. But I did enjoy your theory,” the king cackled, his eyes sparkling. Francis didn’t believe him for one moment but he couldn’t blame the man for keeping up appearances.  

Arthur’s face went red and he started to sputter.

Before he could say anything foul though there was a knock at the door and a servant entered to tell the group that their guests were arriving.

The king shoo-ed the man away and got up, his brothers following suit as Arthur and Francis remained dumbstruck in their seats.

Alastair let his brothers leave the room first as he paused by Arthur’s side and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“The man wasn’t wrong about this being the best possible solution. You can thank me later,” Alistair whispered, winking at Francis.

He left the room with a loud slam of the door leaving Francis and Arthur in silence. Neither really knew what to say now. Eventually, Arthur needed to ask the question that had been weighing on his mind the last few days.

“Why did you come rescue me?” Arthur said to Francis quietly.

“It seems that you and I are in very similar circumstances. I need to marry, mon amour,” Francis sighed. Arthur just looked at him confused.

“Then why go through all of that trouble?” he asked, suddenly feeling fragile. Francis could only let out a weak laugh.

“There were plenty of women to choose from in Paris but when I heard of the rumor of a beautiful young princess trapped, it all seemed so terribly romantic, no?” Francis started to smile at Arthur.

“But then won’t your parents be expecting you to have kids? Heirs?” Arthur said almost desperately. “This is all so sudden. You don’t really mean to propose to me do you?”

Arthur was starting to feel a little hysterical. At that, Francis simply grabbed Arthur’s hands in his and looked Arthur in the eye.

“Arthur I would never pressure you into something that you don’t want, and I know most of our time together so far has been nothing but violence and arguing, but something tells me I would be content if that was how I spent the rest of my days,” Francis said sincerely.

“ _God_ , don’t tell me you believe in love at first sight,” Arthur said very uncomfortably, trying to extract his hands from Francis’.

“No of course not, but I’ve learned enough about you to know that I’d like to learn more,” Francis said, almost as if he was asking a question.

Arthur deflated a bit at that, he could feel his cheeks warming and replied.

“Perhaps I’d like that too.”

Francis smiled and pecked Arthur on the cheek before standing up.

“Well now that that’s settled, we should probably go break the news of our betrothal to that young woman so her heart can finally be set free,” Francis said.

Arthur just rolled his eyes and snorted but followed Francis out of the room, all of the tension from everything seeming to melt off of his shoulders. He and Francis did seem to make a fantastic team…

**The End…for now.**  

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being waaaaaay longer than I expected and it could've easily been longer lmao. Maybe I'll write more for this, maybe not, who knows. Either way, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
